“To what?”
“The proposal.”
She wrapped both hands around the cup.
“Proceed.”
“You make everything sound like court.”
“I prefer clarity.”
“Okay. We enter the Better Together Challenge.”
Her face did not change. That was one of the things I liked about her. Most people responded to bad ideas before the sentence ended. Amy gave them a full audit.
“We are not a couple,” she said.
“I understand.”
“The challenge requires romantic partners.”
“I read the rules.”
“Then your proposal is already invalid.”
“We pretend.”
There. Simple. Amy stopped with her cup halfway to her mouth. A car moved through the intersection. Someone opened the café door behind us, releasing the smell of coffee and baked sugar.
“You want us to pretend to be girlfriends,” she said.
“For twelve weeks.”
“No.”
She lifted the cup. I had expected more discussion.
“The prize covers most of my certification,” I said. “You get your entry reimbursed, the gear package, and the hotel weekend.”
“I can afford all three.”
“Financial stability is very sexy.”
“That is not relevant. You are my trainer.”
“Currently. The arrangement would require boundaries.”
“The arrangement would require a severe lapse in judgment.”
“We already have chemistry.”
Amy’s cup stopped halfway to her mouth. “We have conflict.”
“Conflict with good lighting.”
“No.”
“You read the rules, though.”
